


if they only knew

by caffeine_therapy



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Post Season 2, im spiraling im bringing yall with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeine_therapy/pseuds/caffeine_therapy
Summary: Post season 2. Series of chapters taking place three months after the events in Rome.Eve survived, but in exchange had to give up her former life. Villanelle, on the hunt from the twelve, is on a personal mission taking her back to a dangerous territory.





	1. you can't quit me, baby

**Author's Note:**

> My life has not known peace since the season 2 finale, so in a way to keep on living I'm doing this little project of mine (nervermind I'm doing my thesis at the same time) *old woman voice* in my days these were called one shots, I have no idea anymore but it's basically a collection of nonsequential little stories my mind has been YELLING at me to write down. Hope y'all enjoy.

It’s been three months.

Three months with no contact.

The hotel bar is quiet; hushed voices coming from other tables, glasses clinking and the pleasant sound of some classical piece in the background. The ice in her gin and tonic was slowly melting, untouched, her fingers were numb from holding the glass for so long, but she didn’t care. The table she was sitting at was far away from the rest, hidden in a dark fancy corner of the place, perfect to avoid unwanted company. She could just shut the fuck up and stare in peace at nothing while her mind was completely away from this place, no pretense anymore.

Eve didn’t mind being alone anymore, in fact, after everything that’s happened in the last three months, she _loves it_. She’s lost everything in such a short time, but her mind? That’s Eve’s and Eve’s alone, and the only time she can really navigate the depths of her thoughts are in these moments, with her sitting alone in a table for two on some fancy restaurant that three months ago she wouldn’t have dreamed of even setting a foot on, absolutely underdressed and not giving a _single fuck_ about the stares from the staff, used to seeing their clients in expensive outfits, exuding class.

Eve wasn’t like that, she wasn’t like.. _._

She wasn’t like Villanelle.

A bitter laugh escapes her lips and she drowns it with her drink, finally feeling the strong, bitter taste of alcohol in her mouth. Every night since she got out of the hospital, her wound healed and with a new, unexpected life, she has been drinking the same drink, one glass only, without failing. The only variable is where. Sometimes it’s been in Vienna, sometimes it’s been Ginebra, one time in London, a city that now sounds foreign to her, like speaking in another language, talking of a different life.

Tonight and for the past week she’s been in Moscow. Eve’s bosses gave her a new assignment and she accepted without a fuss. Not that she could refuse, anyway, unless she had a dying wish, which incredibly after everything, she didn’t.

Eve felt _alive_. But the pang of guilt, the price she had to pay for this life…

Her eyes stared vacantly at the seat in front of her while sipping her drink. She had lost Niko, she had been betrayed, she had been manipulated, she had lost her job, her sanity, she had been shot…

She had lost Villanelle, too.

And that name hasn’t left her mind _once_ since she shot her.

Not even during unconsciousness, not in her sleep, not once.

And Eve was restless, she’s been for the past week. Her leg wouldn’t stop bouncing under the table and the scar on her left side seemed to throb from time to time. She was at Villanelle’s homeland, and yet, after some digging, she still had no idea about her, she had no leads, no info, nothing. As if she had vanished from the planet.   

Villanelle hadn’t contact her after what happened in Rome, and during the first month, Eve didn’t know what to do with herself; she had no contacts anymore, no friends, no job, no way to find out where Villanelle might be, where she might have gone. Her new employers saved her life, but she had been completely cut out from everything and everyone until she was fit for “duty” again.

“You’re dead now, Eve Polastri.” Was the only thing the nurse in charge of her would say to Eve.

And so, she spent a month in solitude, healing, imagining every scenario, every possible outcome that could’ve been if she had made different choices in Rome. Thinking about it couldn’t hurt more than how things had turned out, did it?

Now here she was, the dead to the world Eve Polastri, working for her former enemy and being _damn good_ at it.

So damn good, and yet, she had no idea where Villanelle was. She certainly had more resources now than before, but you couldn’t find someone that didn’t want to be found. No trademark murders, no clues, no traces of any kind from Villanelle.

Eve closed her eyes shut for a moment, feeling nauseous. Her world had turned on its axis, and somehow, she still ended up trying to catch up after Villanelle.

_Sisyphean._ Carolyn had said once, a lifetime ago it seemed.

Suddenly, Eve’s gin felt like lead running down her throat. Her eyes still closed, she could remember Villanelle’s face, her dark blonde hair, the way she was talking about Alaska, her voice, her bo—

“You’ve been frowning for ten minutes, is that drink so disgusting?”

_What the fuck?_ Eve’s eyes opened instantly, a mix of terror and surprise stopping her breath. It’s real.

“You’re in Russia, Eve. You should be drinking vodka.” Said Villanelle, casually sitting across Eve, with a drink that might as well be vodka, she doesn’t fucking know anymore.

Villanelle is just staring at her curiously from under her hat, completely at ease. She’s wearing a dark suit, but Eve can’t really appreciate her outfit, she’s stunned, her mouth opened, and she feels as if she forgot how to breath, her hands are shaking, mind racing with a million questions but her mouth is dead.

“I don’t remember shooting your tongue, Eve, you’re not even going to ask me how I am after so long?”

Villanelle won’t stop looking at her, Eve’s fight or flight instinct is kicking in and she follows, not caring about the consequences.

She gets up, and leaves, knees shaking and hearing Villanelle following her close behind. She needs to get to the elevator; she _must_ leave, the door is open, she just needs to get there.

“That’s very rude, Eve, I didn’t even get enjoy my drink.” She says, and Eve has a tunnel vision leading to the elevator door, she has no idea if there’s people around and she doesn’t care.

She’s about to get inside when she feels a hand on her left arm, grabbing her painfully, trying to stop her.

“Eve, would you—” Out of instinct, Eve doesn’t know, but her hand reacts instantly and hits Villanelle across her face, slapping her hat off her head on to the elevator floor.

Time seemed to freeze right there, none of them moved, the only sound was the elevator door closing behind them. Villanelle was looking at her face expressionless, her cheek red right where Eve’s hand had just landed.

“Wow.”

That comment alone seemed to break a dam inside Eve’s mind, and now, instead of flight, she chose fight. She shoved Villanelle with both hands, a mix of desperation and anger hitting her, she suddenly wanted to scream at her, she felt feral.

“How dare you.” Another shove. “You come here.” Another. “After all this time.” Another and she had Villanelle against the button panel of the elevator. “You shot me.” She couldn’t stop shoving her against the wall, and Villanelle did nothing, she was just taking it, the fucker. “How fucking dare you.” Eve managed to grab her throat with both hands in her fit of fury.

“Eve.” Villanelle grabbed both her wrists, preventing Eve from keeping with her assault, but not keeping her still.

“You left me for dead, you fucking shot me, and now here you fucking are.” Eve was trying to release her wrists from Villanelle’s grip, but it was too strong, so she kept shoving at her with her entire body instead until she was gasping, and her shoulder felt sore and tender against Villanelle’s body. All Eve could do after some time was to lean on her, her wrists still captured, trying to catch her breath.

“You asshole, did you come to apologize? Is that why you’re here?” Villanelle’s face was mere inches away from her, but she didn’t look angry or bothered, she was just, looking at Eve’s intense glare, expressionless.

“No.” She released Eve’s wrists, and without breaking eye contact with her she pressed the button for Eve’s hotel room floor. “Asshole.”

“Would you stop calling me that? It’s not like you are an innocent lamb, Eve, you stabbed me. I’d say we are even now.” Slowly, she grabbed her hat off from the floor and put it back on, straightening her suit before the elevator doors opened again.

“You’re as much as a big, bad wolf as I am.” Villanelle said, finally grinning at her, her white teeth showing dangerously as they walked outside.

“No, I’m not and I never was and never will be.” Eve wouldn’t fall for this, she wouldn’t fall for this again.

“Eve.” Villanelle said with humor, as if this was a fucking joke. “I know who you’re working for.” Of course, she knew more than Eve knew about her. Of fucking course. “Pretty, innocent lambs don’t do this line of work, and don’t forget about our dear friend Raymond.”

They were alone in the hallway leading to Eve’s room, but still, Villanelle leaned down to whisper against her ear, holding her hat with one hand so it wouldn’t fall.

“I am just like you, but without the guilt, don’t forget that, and don’t pretend otherwise with me.”

Eve didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Villanelle was smiling, because she knew she was right.

Eve just walked away to her room, knowing Villanelle would follow behind.

Why would she say anything? It was the truth; she knew it and Villanelle knew it.

She had killed a man, Raymond. She was working for the twelve now. There was no innocence to be lost in her anymore.

“Why are you here?” Asked Eve as she opened the door to her room, it was dark and she didn’t bother to turn on the light, she just walked straight to her bed and sat down on it.

“Seems you haven’t been able to keep tabs on me, commander.” Villanelle just stood there, hands in her pockets, looking at Eve with a faint smile.

“You don’t seem to want to be found.” Three months’ worth of frustration made themselves present in her tone. Dead end after dead end. “I just figured you left for Alaska.” Eve’s chest felt constricted suddenly, the memory of that day coming back fully, the pain, the betrayal.

“I wouldn’t leave without you.” And there it was, that stinging pain in Eve’s chest. Villanelle’s tone was earnest, her expression too.  

“And yet you shot me and tried killed me.” A dull pain was faintly throbbing at Eve’s left side, her gunshot wound. Her hand automatically covered the place as if trying to shield it from further damage.

“If I’d wanted you dead, you would be, Eve, I don’t fail unless I want to.” The _arrogance_.

“Then why did you do it? Because you didn’t get your way?”

“Why did you stab me, Eve?”

Silence. Eve couldn’t stop looking at Villanelle, even amongst the darkness of the room she could make out her features, the smug smile on her lips, the sharp look in her eyes, the calm and proud posture with which she carried herself, even now, standing in the middle of this room, after being slapped across the face just minutes ago.

Eve sighed. She felt emotionally drained.

“Why are you here?” Asked again Eve.

“I wanted to see you.” She laughed and walked closer to the bed. “It’s hard to keep tabs on someone who’s supposed to be dead.” Villanelle was towering over her, one hand reaching out to cradle Eve’s face. Her hand was soft and surprisingly tender. “And work also brought me here, like you.”

“Work?”

“Personal work.” A toothy grin that made her look so…normal. Eve couldn’t stop looking at her, she hated the feeling of wanting to grab the hand that was cupping her face and kiss it, touch with her lips the trigger finger that nearly killed her.

“Is that why I can’t find anything about you anywhere?” Eve whispered. After all that violence in the elevator, this fragile moment of tenderness was making her head spin.

“You just can’t quit me, can you?” Villanelle’s thumb was caressing her lower lip, a dangerous glint in her eyes made Eve want to rub her thighs together. It was getting difficult to breath.

“The same goes for you.” And then the spell was broken, Villanelle’s hands returned to her pockets and stepped back from Eve with small grin on her face.

“Sadly, I have to go now, duty calls but you know that already.” A wink. Eve rolled her eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid. Also, I’m taking that slap on the elevator as payback for the one in Rome.”

“Asshole.”

“That’s rude, Eve Polastri.” Eve missed her Russian accent more than she thought. Missed the dramatics as Villanelle put a hand on her chest as if she had been hurt by what she said. “I’ll find you.”

Of course, she would, Eve thought. Even now she couldn’t keep up with her, always one step ahead. But Eve wouldn’t give up.

“What if I find you first?” So far everything she had done had been absolutely useless, but there were always more sources of information, always one more step in the ladder she could climb to access new information, and in the three months that have passed, Eve had climbed more steps than anyone else she knew about, her bosses pleased with her sharp efficacy. She could keep up, she knew it, she will.

Villanelle laughed. “Highly unlikely, Eve. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m away, I would hate to find out something happened to you.” She sounded serious, and Eve wanted to believe her, that Villanelle cared about her, that she _felt_ something beyond apathy for her, but was she fooling herself? She didn’t know anymore. She still remembers what had been said in the ruins in Rome, and after months, she still didn’t know whether to believe Villanelle or not. Was it all just an act to make Eve do whatever she wanted, to make her leave to Alaska, to control her? Until what extent she was being manipulated?

“See you later, Eve.” And like that Villanelle walked out of her room, leaving her in the darkness of the room with her heart beating rapidly on her chest, so many emotions passing through Eve she couldn’t say anything anymore, staring after the woman who shot her, who turned her world upside down, walking towards a complete mystery.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter so it's a bit long to give yall context, who's Eve working for, what Villanelle MIGHT be up to, the aftermath of the shooting, all of that.
> 
> Villanelle's outfit thought after that one from the deleted scenes from ep8 (yeehaw)
> 
> All the chapter titles are title songs, this one is from QOTSA. All the songs are like my personal playlist for this show, god im in too deep.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and all the feedback is more than welcomed.


	2. dear friend

 

Villanelle had forgotten how cold it could be in Russia, especially considering she was in a cabin in the middle of the forest during winter, with a gun in her hand that was already numb except for her trigger finger. Across her, Konstantine seemed relatively calm, wearing his trademark heavy black coat, his gloved fingers holding a tall glass of vodka while hers remained between them on the table, untouched.

“Villanelle put the gun down. Let’s talk like civilized people, okay?” Said Konstantine, gesturing for her hand. “Quite a funny place to meet.” He laughed so loud the small cabin made it sound louder. She had missed that laugh. Villanelle had missed Konstantine, she couldn’t quite decipher it but, thinking back to that day in Rome, a small stinging pain in her stomach always made itself present whenever she thought about it.

“Of course.” She gave him a toothy smile of her own and put the gun on the holster inside her parka. She wasn’t trying to kill him or intimidate him; it’s just how she operates. Trust but verify, just like he taught her. And she did trust Konstantine. “How’s your family Konstantine? Was your little plan in Rome worth it?”

He brought his drink to his lips, looking at Villanelle like she had said something funny. “Of course, it was worth it, they are my family, it’s what you do. Although I’d have preferred another way of doing things, I had my hands tied.” He looked and sounded honest, he never once stopped looking at her in the eyes, fearless and doubtless. She liked that about Konstantine, he didn’t lie to her, and when he did, she knew about it; he was a shitty little liar, always wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Oh, I don’t blame you, I still consider you my friend.” Villanelle might not know much about friendships, but she had seen Konstantine care for her like no one else, in his own way. “We are even now, after all I shot you once.”  She shrugged and Konstantine laughed into his glass.

“You remember this place, Konstantine?” Almost three years ago, they sat at this exact same table for the first time. “You used to have more black hair than now, though.”

“Of course, how could I forget? Handling you made me go grey faster” He laughed.

“Oksana Astankova.”

It’s been a while since she last heard her real name, but it’s been years since she last heard it with a Russian pronunciation. It felt…foreign. It felt like nothing.  Not that it ever did. It meant nothing to her.

“Age, twenty-three years old, accused of the homicide of Maxi Leonova.”  His humor gone now, face expressionless, he asked. “What do you want, Villanelle?”

She laughed. Trust but verify. Just like he taught her.

“In Rome, I told you all my family are dead, and you said:”, she tried to copy his voice, “Most of them, sure.” Villanelle leaned closer to him over the table, holding his gaze. “What did you mean with that?”

Silence. Konstantine didn’t say a word, all Villanelle could hear was the wind outside the cabin, the snow falling everywhere. His gaze never wavered, he pursed his lips and let out a laugh, breaking the tension. He sounded…nervous now.

“You don’t want to go there, Oksana.” So, he was using her name now? What was this all about?

“What if I do?” She was not quitting this, no matter what he said, she _had_ to know the truth.

“It’s not safe, I can’t protect you if anything goes wrong, which will happen.”

“I’m not asking for your protection; I want the truth. Your family needs the protection, not your dear friend here.” He certainly looked worried now. He was looking at her with that same hurt expression he had in Rome, almost telling her to leave it alone, for her own safety. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me and tell me.”

For the first time, Konstantine looked away, his gaze falling over the broken window, but looking far beyond, to the snow clouds outside. Villanelle was growing restless, her heart pumping now, she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore, but she didn’t care.

“Boris is alive.” He looked at her and leaned forward too. “Boris Astankov is alive and he’s dangerous, Oksana.”

Villanelle’s face was unreadable, Konstantine waited for an answer but Villanelle was far away from the cabin after hearing that name.

_Her father_ was still alive.

_Of course,_ the drunk bastard was hard to kill.

A chip off the old block.

She couldn’t help but start laughing out loud, Konstantine taken aback by her reaction leaned back rapidly.

“What is he going to do, hit me to death with an empty bottle?” She said, between laughs. But Konstantine was serious.

“He works for the Brothers’ Circle.” _Of course,_ he was working for the mafia now.

“He’s putting his training to good use.” He used to be a Spetsnaz close-quarter battle instructor, she remembers, and he did teach her a lot of useful tricks when she was younger. “Good for him.” Villanelle clapped, a false smile crossing her lips. Konstatine couldn’t help but crack a smile too.

“Why do you want to know this? What are you going to do?” He asked curiously, he knew she wasn’t working for anyone now, if anything, she was on the run, from the twelve, MI6.

“I am going to pay him a little visit.” Konstantine tilted his head, his expression confused, brows furrowed in worry.

“Villanelle…”

“Don’t worry, Konstantine.” She leaned forward again and patted his balding grey hair. “I won’t be naughty.”

“Why don’t you go on a vacation instead? You have money, don’t do this.” His worry was palpable in the way he talked. Oh, good old Konstantine.

“I did want to but…” she grimaced. “Didn’t turn out too well.” She knew Konstantine knew, his eyes said it all. “Hopefully next time.”

“How’s Eve Polastri?”

Villanelle laughed and pinched his cheeks, standing up to leave.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Konstantine. But she’s doing better than us.”

“I worry about you.”

“Why?” He scoffed at her question.

“We are friends, friends care for each other, Villanelle.” He said, his Russian accent heavy, without a trace of doubt behind his words.

Villanelle smiled at him and rubbed the top of his head.

“See you later, dear friend.” And so, she walked outside into the cold, snowy day.

She had plans to prepare and people to talk to before the night came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I tell yall I love Konstantine and Villanelle's dynamic? No? Well, I love it, lads. The dad jumps out of Konstantine sometimes. Anyways, Villanelle and Konstantine's last scene made it seem like someone from her family is still alive and that he knows who it is, so here I was kind of exploring that. If you read the Codename: Villanelle books, you know they mentioned her dad's name so I took it from there, also I'll probably take it as a reference for Villanelle's background story, as well as Konstantine's throughout...whatever this is I'm writing here (yeah dude I'm THAT deep into this).
> 
> No Villanelle/Eve interaction during this chapter (boooo me) but will make it up for yall next time. Stubbornly, I'm trying to set up some RESEMBLANCE of plot for the rest of...whatever I write cuz I don't want it to just hang up in the air? Just building the base for the rest of what's to come. 
> 
> As always, all feedback appreciated.
> 
> Edit: thanks to LoveOnly for the tip on russian surnames and their suffixes rules because i had no idea.


	3. simple survival.

Eve’s hands were covered in blood, part of her face too, and her breathing came out erratically as she dragged the unconscious body of Villanelle from the passenger seat of her car to inside the safe house.

Her mind was sharp focused at the task at hand, only her final goal crowded her thoughts; she had to stop the bleeding. Villanelle’s blood stained her once perfect white shirt, down to her black pants that she could feel clinging to her skin, but she paid no mind.

Villanelle was dying and she would not allow it.  

Eve opened the door of the house out of pure instinct, crossing the threshold with the pale, bleeding body in her arms. Her back and arms protested, she was cramping all over, and her heart seemed to want to jump out of her chest. With care she deposited Villanelle’s body on the long couch in the living room, realizing then the real amount of damage her care had; bruises and cuts all over her beautiful face, dry blood all over her clothes especially on the right shoulder area where she had gotten shot. She needed to take care of that now.

“You’re going to be okay, you’re going to be fine.” Eve repeated this mantra all the way to the bathroom looking for the first aid kit and back to Villanelle’s side.

“Please don’t move.” She was surprised at the steadiness of her hands as she picked up some scissors and started cutting through bloody clothes until she could see the gunshot wound clearly. Villanelle was going to be pissed once she wakes up and sees what happened to her shirt. It made Eve laugh.

“This isn’t funny, Eve.” The weak voice she heard made her stop immediately what she was doing. Villanelle was barely conscious, her eyes closed shut tightly in sign of pain. Eve dropped the scissors and cupped her face with both hands, foreheads touching. Villanelle was cold, her breathing labored.

“Please shut up and let me help you, I need to remove the bullet on your shoulder now, please, don’t _fucking_ _move,_ Villanelle _._ ”

“Please do it quick…” Villanelle’s voice was harsh and quiet, and in so much pain. She smelled like smoke and gunpowder and blood.

“Don’t move, please.” Eve let go of her and began trying to remove the bullet from the wound immediately, Villanelle’s groans of pain filled the room at the first contact, but she didn’t move. Eve was focused, trying to find the bullet and extract it. Find and extract.

Find. She did. Now extract. The hard part. Villanelle was sweating, Eve realized, her hand came to grab the edge of the couch in a desperate attempt to keep still, her knuckles whiter than her now sick and pale complexion.

“Eve, pull it out…” Her jaw was clenched, she was speaking through clenched teeth.

Extract. It always was slow and painful, this time no different, Villanelle’s loud groan startled Eve for a second but she continued. It took three long and torturous pulls before it was completely out, the bleeding now running freely down Villanelle’s arm.

Eve’s efficiency was sharp, her hands cleaning and bandaging the wound as best as she could for the time being. She needed to make a call and quick. There was just so much she could do, and she already had done it all.

For a moment she remembered the first time she met Villanelle, back at the hospital, what it seemed a lifetime ago. Eve remembered being absolutely terrified of the carnage and blood all over the place, she remembered being shaking and screaming for help, afraid of even helping the poor girl that was bleeding out in her hospital bed. And here she was now, not an ounce of doubt, no fear, no nervousness, with bloody hands and clothes performing _the shittiest_ bullet removal in history that _had_   to be done, taking care of her charge, who was the same person who had murdered in cold blood at least six people that day years ago and now here she was, bleeding and groaning and barely conscious and weak and nowhere near as deathly as that night.

The world was small indeed.   

And here she was too, former MI5 and- what now she doubted it- MI6 agent, divorced and, for all legal purposes, dead.

Dead for the world but feeling the most alive she has ever felt in her life.

Funny how things worked.

She needed to make a call.

\--

In ten minutes, a van arrived at the safe house. A man dressed in a black suit with a black hat got out of the driver seat with a medical case. Eve couldn’t help but think this looked straight out of a mafia film.

She opened the door and he walked in, tipping his hat ever so slightly, his gaze grey and cold and intimidating. But Eve wasn’t in the slightest. It’s been years since she felt really intimidating by someone, and that someone was bleeding out on the couch. And she was the deadliest person Eve has ever encountered in her life.

No, she wasn’t afraid of anyone anymore. He could look at her all day if he wanted with those stony eyes, she wouldn’t look away.

He didn’t say his name; he didn’t need to anyway. Her bosses told her he was the guy to call during an emergency, no one else, nobody knew his name; he showed up, did his job and left. That’s all she needed to know, and she didn’t care beyond that.

She stood right behind him while tended Villanelle. He was good. Fast and precise, even Eve could see that. In fifteen minutes, he had cleaned and sutured the wound as if it was a nothing but a scratch, had given Villanelle some medicine that completely knocked her out despite her weak protests against them, and was getting now ready to leave.

“Antibiotics. Change bandages every three hours.” He said, handing Eve a small envelope before walking out the door, again tipping his hat as a goodbye.

\--

Five hours passed until Villanelle woke up again.

Her head was throbbing painfully; her entire body hurt, and her shoulder felt as if it was on fire. All she could do was look at the bandages surrounding it and try to move it, she wanted to rip the them off.

“Don’t touch it.” Eve softly slapped her hand away from her hurt shoulder. “You’re going to start bleeding again.” Villanelle’s eyes were dry, but she could still make out Eve’s body, sitting on a chair right by the couch, a book on her lap, and blood stains all over her clothes but her face was now clean.

“You look good.” Villanelle said, trying to sound casual as if they hadn’t just barely made it out alive, well, more specifically herself. Her raspy voice didn’t help either. “That wasn’t very fun, now was it?”

Eve just shook her head with a small smile on her lips.

“Considering you almost bled to death on my watch; no, it wasn’t.” Eve said, calmly closing the book she was reading. She looked so composed, so put together, even with all the gore in her clothes.

Villanelle loved it, but she knew better. She remembered exactly what had happened when things had gone south. She smirked weakly.

“How long have I been out?” She was sprawled on the couch, her entire body sore and every muscle in her right shoulder on fire, but with whatever she had left of strength she extended her good arm towards Eve, trying to grasp at whatever she could get her hand first, which was Eve’s knee.  

“Five hours.” She didn’t seem to mind. She put her book away and grabbed Villanelle’s hand carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Even the light hurt her eyes, so she closed them tightly. “How are you?” She wished she could see Eve’s expression when she asked that, but all she had was the feeling of her hand being squeezed lightly.

“Like shit, too.” She certainly didn’t look the part.

“Well...” Villanelle chuckled. Eve just never stopped intriguing her.

“You shot a man in the back of his head.” She made the sound of a gunshot with her mouth. “And he still managed to shoot me before that.”

The hand grabbing hers started squeezing tighter, and even thought it hurt, Villanelle said nothing. She didn’t have the strength to squeeze back, nor to open her eyes. But she knew Eve preferred it this way.

Villanelle certainly knew her better now.

“I’ll never get used to it.” Eve said, barely above a whisper.

“Good.” Villanelle knew this too. “Don’t, because then it wouldn’t be you.” She knew Eve’s guilty ate away at her at night, she had seen it with her own eyes, the tears on bad days, the anger, the roughness with which she begged to be touched sometimes.

“It’s simple survival, Eve. It had to be done.”  

Villanelle didn’t know what guilt felt like, when others punished themselves for things they had done, she slept peaceful at night. But she could try to understand it to a certain extent, at least to understand Eve.

“I know.” Understanding feelings was exceptionally difficult when you’ve never felt them. They weren’t like facial expressions; you could copy those after some practice and observation. But feelings, they were different for everyone, some people were loud when angry, some were quiet. But Villanelle didn’t need to understand all people, she just wanted to understand Eve.

And that was enough.

“A life for a life.” Said Eve, finally softening her grip. Villanelle said nothing. “I could’ve arrived earlier; he wouldn’t have shot you.”

Villanelle thought back to the moment she had seen Eve silently sneaking behind the target’s back, the way she pulled the trigger without hesitation, expressionless. It wasn’t like the first time with Raymond, doubting and panicking, no; she knew what had to be done, and she did it without mercy in the moment. Villanelle remembered both guns firing at the same time, the horrid pain on her shoulder, the blood everywhere; her shoulder, the guy’s head, the floor, the walls, on Eve’s face. She remembered everything right until she fell on the unconscious, the blinding pain taking over her senses, the warm blood flowing down her arm nonstop and then Eve’s arms around her torso dragging her outside of the warehouse.

She was glad Eve had shown up at that time.

But Eve couldn’t know that. She was her handler; she shouldn’t have been there at all. Villanelle had fucked up; she should’ve died right there on that dirty floor. Handlers weren’t supposed to care so much. Look at what had happened to Konstantine, alive but at what price?

What would happen to Eve.

Villanelle wasn’t scared of death, if anything, when she died it would be violent. It couldn’t be any other way. It was a consolation of some sort, not a boring death. But she wasn’t looking forward to it, in fact, her life was based on running away from it. And today she almost didn’t. Until Eve showed up.

She was given more time because of her.

It made Villanelle laugh, her tone raspy. Even laughing was painful in the state she was, but it was better than being dead, she guessed.   

“You stole my part of the assignment and now you wish you had stolen all the fun?” Eve chuckled at her comment. “Such a killjoy. I’m naming you Killjoy Commander now.”

Villanelle kept silent after that, her head throbbing painfully and just trying to focus on the feel of Eve’s thumb rubbing against her hand in circles. It was soothing and even though the pain wouldn’t go away, if she concentrated enough, she could push it out of her mind just like she was taught years ago during her training for The Twelve.

Villanelle didn’t know how much time had passed but the sudden feel of Eve’s hair so close to her face surprised her enough to weakly gasp. It caught her completely off guard too, the whispering lips by her ear, so warm against her cold skin.

“With you dead, where would the fun be, Villanelle?” She shivered, involuntary. She could imagine Eve’s smirk as she said that.

Villanelle smiled.

“Aren’t you full of surprises, miss Polastri? Didn’t think you were having that much fun.”

Oh, but she knew deep down Eve _loved_ this.

The guilt was just a small price to pay in exchange for the _time_ of her life.

And Eve was more than willing to pay for it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clown noises


	4. leaves.

Eve’s patience was running thin.

Her plane had been delayed for another three hours because of weather conditions and the taste of coffee was making her nauseous after the fourth espresso. The delay was not a problem in the grand scheme of things, she could arrive one day later than expected and still make it on time, but she felt anxious. Restless. She couldn’t stop fidgeting with the cardboard cup, drumming her fingers against it.

She wanted to start her assignment as soon as possible; she had already studied the “client’s” situation, formulated multiple possible solutions and was ready to execute them. All she needed was to arrive to her destination and start working. The thrill of a new job, a new mystery, a completely different environment, the possibilities of it all; she just wanted to start working right now.

This is why she’s one of the best at her job.

It had become a passion.

Brilliance achieved by hours and hours of research, never a dull moment. Her mind always working, always finding new ways, always ready for the next challenge. Her bosses were pleased, letting her know every time she finished an assignment. She was efficient, no problems, no wasted time, no wasted resources. Eve had seen how her tasks were changing in hierarchy; at first, easy, too easy for her. Then they became more complex, but she adjusted, and now every new assignment required finesse; the fine untangling of a web that demanded no mistakes.

It demanded she could handle other people from the organization, too; dangerous individuals.

She was not only the mastermind behind it all but also part of the execution itself.

That was the absolute thrill of it all.

The drumming of her fingers against the fragile cup became faster.

Eve looked at her watch on her wrist. Two hours and forty-five minutes to board.

If she could just zone out, that would be great. She closed her eyes shut.

“Did you know so much coffee can give you a heartburn?” Eve’s gasped out loud, jumping in her seat, almost dropping her half full cup of now cold coffee.

“Fucking Christ.” Her empty hand came to rest on her chest. “You asshole.”

“That’s not very nice, Eve. Hello to you, too.” Villanelle blew a kiss at her and winked, as if she hadn’t just almost scared her to death. What the _fuck_.

“Why are you here, Villanelle?” Eve hissed, trying to compose herself. It couldn’t be… She was supposed to be handling someone else, was this some sort of joke now?  

“We work for the same people now, Eve. We are bound to meet… more frequently now.” She grinned. Eve wanted to smack her. “It’s been a while.”

Villanelle was sitting by her, legs crossed with not a care in the world it seemed, her suit perfectly tailored as always.

Eve had missed her so much.

“It’s been a while, yes.” She tried to disguise her initial shock by finishing her disgusting coffee. Absolutely awful. She grimaced and Villanelle seemed to enjoy watching her letting out a small chuckle. She hated that she missed that sound so much, that she had been trying to replay it in her head every night in the darkness of whatever hotel room she was staying.

But it could never compare to the original.

“Why are you so jumpy? Are you being naughty, Eve?” That flirtatious tone, the arm on the back of her seat. Villanelle was so close she could smell her perfume as if her nose was against her pulse point, and with the way she was leaning, so close, it’d only take one small movement.

_What would it feel like to do it again?_    

“I’m just surprised to see you here, that’s all.” Eve tried to keep her tone neutral, as if unaffected by the last minutes but she was anything but immune to this. Especially to this closeness, almost intimacy being shared between them. “What are you doing here? Seriously.”

“I’m working, of course. Now that my contract has been…renewed, they want me working straight away.” Eve couldn’t help but laugh. Villanelle’s “contract renewal”, as she so eloquently put it, had been…interesting, to say the least. “They know I’m amazing, they just can’t let me go.” She rolled her eyes.

“You’re such an dick sometimes.” Villanelle laughed and got even closer to Eve, her arm now around her shoulders and her lips right against her ear.

“But I have you to thank for that too.” She whispered.

God, they really shouldn’t be playing this game right now.

But Eve had missed her so much, had dreamed about this for weeks since the last time they saw each other. She could barely resist the urge to close her eyes and let herself go, only the fact that they were in a public area kept her sanity in check for the time being.

“Would you kindly accept my invitation for dinner two weeks from now as a thank you?” Was she…really asking her out?

Eve was astonished, to say the least. If anything, why didn’t Villanelle just walked in on her when she was on some random restaurant somewhere like she had always done before? What had changed? Since when did she…ask for anything and not just take it?

“Sure…” she didn’t know how to react to this, and Villanelle seemed to notice right away, her hand rubbing her shoulder in circles.  

“You seem surprised.” It was a fact. She was.

“I never expected my day to turn out like this.” For a moment Eve had completely forgotten about her assignment, the airport, the delay, the disgusting coffee, everything that wasn’t this conversation; the arm around her shoulders, the warm breath against her skin, that delightful accent.

“I live to surprise.” Villanelle winked at her again and looked from her lips to her eyes, and Eve had to muster all her remaining strength to not lean forward.

“Thank you…for the invitation, it’s very nice of you.” Of course, she knew there was more behind the simple invitation for dinner, and it wasn’t just because Villanelle wanted to ‘thank her’ for what had happened a few weeks ago.

Eve should’ve said no and end this, but the truth was that she wanted it. She wanted it so bad. She didn’t have the heart to say no anymore to…whatever it was they had.

And after what had happened already between, she just couldn’t pretend there was nothing.

“I am nothing if not nice.” Eve tried masking her disappointment when Villanelle went back to her seat, no longer that warm arm around her. She bit her tongue.

After a few minutes of silence, Eve couldn’t hold it in any longer and asked, even though she already knew the answer.

 “Where are you going now?” There wasn’t the slightest chance Villanelle would be mixed on her assignment. That disappointed her further.

“Well well, Eve. Didn’t you know we’re not allowed to share that information?” She flicked Eve’s knee playfully. She knew it but, what did she lose by asking? She rubbed the spot. “Are you worried about me?”

“I am.” Eve flicked her knee as retaliation. “That you’ll do something stupid like last time.” Villanelle’s faux indignation made her smile.

“Things got a little bit more difficult then, that’s all. But you’re cute for worrying.” She flicked her nose now and Eve’s hands instantly covered it. The asshole.

“Just don’t be a dick, okay?”

“That’s rude. But I’ll try, wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, you can be very dangerous.” Villanelle’s hand covered the place on her stomach where Eve knew there was a scar. The stab wound she had inflicted what seemed like years ago now, when things were so different. “Poor me.” Villanelle couldn’t fake that sad expression for shit.

“You fucking shot me.” Eve flicked her forehead and Villanelle’s surprised gasp made her laugh. “You are no saint. Neither am I, if that’s a consolation for you.” She put her hand on her left side, where she had been shot

“Oh, you have no idea, love.” Villanelle’s smile seemed sincere. She looked at her watch, and a dull of pain of…disappointment hit Eve. “I have to go now. Duty calls.”

“I have two more hours of waiting to do so…have fun.” She didn’t want to say goodbye, if she was completely honest. She managed to catch a glimpse of Villanelle’s ticket.

Paris. Charles De Gaulle.

It felt like a joke after what had just talked.

“You know that’s not my destination. Just like yours isn’t Amsterdam.” Of course, safety measures.

Villanelle was looking at her intently, as if trying to decipher what Eve was thinking. So, she had seen her ticket too.

“I know.” It certainly didn’t help how Eve felt. But there wasn’t much they could do; this is where the parted ways again.

“I’ll contact you for dinner.” Villanelle winked at her again and Eve wanted to smack her. Again. For not taking this seriously, but what did she wanted her to do? To sent everything to hell and leave with her? Was it Eve’s turn to want an ‘Alaska’ like Villanelle had wanted years ago? No, they weren’t made for that.

“I’m not even going to ask how you’ll do that.” She sighed, tired all of a sudden. She needed to regroup.

Work. Her assignment. She had a purpose for being here, and as much as she hated it, it wasn’t Villanelle.

Missing someone could really twist your perspective, Eve thought.

_Obsessing_ over someone.

Villanelle was standing in front her now and she looked so tall, so unreachable.

“Just wait until I reach you.” She didn’t touch her, hands now in her pockets and small suitcase by her side, ready to leave. “I’d say take care of yourself, but you _really_ know how to do that already.”

“You don’t so, take care, Oksana.” Villanelle closed her eyes and put her hand in her chest again, pretending to be hurt by her comment. Eve rolled her eyes, used to these dramatics already.

“You hurt me, Eve.” Villanelle laughed.  

“See you in two weeks.”

Eve didn’t have it in her to answer anything back. Villanelle simply smiled at her and walked away with her suitcase.

Eve stayed in her seat watching her, mixing with the rest of the people at the busy airport until was lost between them.

She still had two hours to wait.

Time to mentally prepare herself. And to ease this dull ache on her chest.  

Eve went to get another coffee.


	5. every dog has its day part i.

**PART I**.

“Isn’t this one happy family reunion.” Villanelle’s gun was pointed right at his chest, her trigger finger ready, unmoving and a mocking smile on her face. She was enjoying this _so much._

“I was told you preferred English these days but with me, Oksana?” Boris shook his head in fake disapproval mimicking her expression. “Why is my dear daughter back from the dead and here to haunt me?” His gun was pointing at her gut from the top of the table, holding it in his big hand making it look like a toy.

“Oh, dear father I was never dead but I’m pretty sure you know that already.” Villanelle looked at him, really looked at him now. He was old; his once blond hair going grey now, the wrinkles on his face no much more pronounced, the skin around his nose as red as she could remember, probably if she got closer, his breath still reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. And he was as big as ever; broad chest and shoulders, hands that were twice her size. It made her giggle and Boris raised an eyebrow, seemingly curious at her odd behavior. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, I’m so glad I could finally meet you.” She smiled her broadest smile yet, tightening the grip on her gun.

He reminded Villanelle a bit of Konstantine, if he had been more athletic. They shared the same boring outfit style, too. Everything black, big coat and combat boots.

“And you did make a mess trying to find me.” His deep voice sounded amused, his left hand signaling around them, two bodies bleeding out on the floor at the entrance of the room. Villanelle made an “oops” sound, covering her lips with her free hand. “But thank you, it made me realize I am surrounded by useless bastards.” Boris spat on the floor, without tearing his eyes off her. _Disgusting_. “How did you find me?”

“You’d think finding a mole for the organization would be more difficult.” Villanelle said, swinging slightly her gun while she talked but still pointing it at him. Boris’ nose twitched and Villanelle smirked. He was starting to get nervous, a possible threat to his control the situation? How _dare_ she. “Also, a big Russian mafia player? Mmh, but turns out, when people don’t like you and they are about to die, they say a lot of useful things.” She winked at him. “People _really_ don’t know how to keep secrets; you should know that. _You_ taught me that.”

Boris let out a breath he seemed to be holding and laughed, nervously, his nose twitching every two seconds now, Villanelle counted. Oh the poor bastard. As easy as reading an open book.  

“So, you’re here to kill me then, Oksana?” He said, pointing at her gun with his free hand.

“This?” Villanelle said, lifting her gun slowly. “This is just a safety measure; I am here to talk. But your boys didn’t seem to understand that, so they had to be put down.” She shrugged, smiling devilishly. “Just like you used to say, how was it…every dog has its day.”

Villanelle never knew why Boris used that phrase, maybe he had watched a movie where they mentioned it and then took it out of context, she didn’t know. But she remembered him saying that over and over again when she was younger. Every dog has its day. He used to say it with his broken English, over and over again, while teaching her how to use a gun, a knife, a machete, how to break someone’s nose.

Every dog has its day and make sure it’s not you.

Her father had given that phrase a completely different meaning.

Instead glory and victory it was death.

Villanelle could see the way he was swallowing hard now. Oh, she had made her research, and she knew exactly what he was doing now, with who, where, and how. And she knew he was damned now, the greedy bastard, thinking he could outsmart the mafia and powers bigger than he could imagine? Boris knew there was a price on his head, that’s why the tight security surrounding him. As if that could stop his death from happening.

Every dog has its day, and Boris’ day was closer than he dared to think.   

Villanelle waved the gun put it on top of the table, safety on. Boris hesitated, but followed her lead, doing the same with his, fingers trembling slightly and now his eye twitching as well as his nose.

“I taught you well, Oksana.” Villanelle rolled her eyes, was he really trying this? His last resort? She knew what he was going to propose now, a desperate man’s attempt at survival. “What do you think about helping me? Getting me out of the country to start?”

“I don’t work for free, Boris.” Was he really thinking she’d lend him a hand only because he was her father? Returning the favor?

The sudden punch on the table startled Villanelle for a second, her hand automatically going for the pistol. Boris’ face grew red, his knuckles white, his expression a mixed of anger and desperation, nostrils flared. “I am your father, you bastard. And you’re going to help me now or I’m going to ma--”

One second, Villanelle had seen a red laser dot aiming at his head, the next one she had jumped out of the way, grabbing her gun, after witnessing a bullet go right through Boris’ skull while he was in the middle of his angry rant.

One second later his bloody head hit the edge of the table and another loud gunshot was heard, going right past her leg while Villanelle slid the safety off the gun and pointed at the intruder’s throat, hours of training kicking in automatically. Another gunshot, this time quieter, the sound of a body colliding against the floor along with a chair, followed by a faint gurgling sound, a pistol falling loudly, knees and then another body against the floor.

Everything happened so fast Villanelle acted on pure instinct. But now, staring at the two more bodies bleeding on the expensive carpet of the hotel room, she could think again. Her breathing was coming out ragged, couldn’t stop looking at Boris’ awkward position all surrounded by red on the floor, his eyes lifeless, completely different less than a minute ago when he _had_ been yelling at Villanelle.

Boris was _dead_ and it hadn’t been her.

Fuck, she hadn’t even meant for him to die today.

Villanelle looked at the other fresh body on the carpet.

“Rude arsehole...”

It was a woman. Probably around her mid-thirties. Fucking amateur, barging in a hotel trying to hit someone without a silencer. The police were probably on their way soon. Villanelle cursed. The dead woman was dressed in slacks and a now stained white blouse that looked expensive. She reeked of hired killer. Of the twelve, getting rid of a compromised asset.

“They’re hiring the shitty ones now.” Villanelle took her time and searched the woman’s clothes for some identification or anything useful but nothing, until she found her earpiece. Villanelle smirked and put it on, but the line was out, only white noise now. Of course. She threw it away and sighed out loud.

She had to get out of there. She spared one last glance at Boris’ body before making her way out of the bloody room, her mood fucking ruined by this _amateur_. Just out of spite, Villanelle spit on the body of the hired killer on her way out.

Every dog has its day.

Just when she opened the door of the room, the barrel of a gun greeted her, another gun of many more during the day aiming at her chest and getting closer. It was shaking slightly, she realized, but Villanelle was more surprised to see who was holding it. An incredulous laugh escaped her lips.

“This is not very nice, Eve.“ This day couldn’t get any weirder. There she was, the cause of everything, holding a gun at her heart, the barrel pushing Villanelle back slowly inside the room. “Didn’t anyone tell you it is rude to greet someone with a gun?”

“Shut up, I should be saying that, you asshole.” Said Eve, glancing at the body of the dead woman on the floor. “You killed her.” The body was lying face down on the carpet, bleeding profusely still. Villanelle simply shrugged and smile mockingly.

“She had just killed my father so take it as a family revenge.” Eve opened her mouth, but no words came out, the barrel of the gun against her heart was shaking; she looked shocked.

Even though Villanelle didn’t feel a fatherly love for Boris, he was still her father. She truly hadn’t planned on killing him, in fact, she didn’t even know exactly why she had been so hellbent on finding him. Closure? Reassurance that at least there was someone who shared her bloodline alive? Maybe.

And it was frustrating seeing how the conclusion was cut short thanks to some random amateur.

“So Konstantine was telling the truth?” whispered Eve, putting the gun down to her side.

“What did he say exactly?” Just how deep was he into this mess, too. Approaching police sirens interrupted whatever else she might want to ask. “Thanks to your little apprentice here and her lack of finesse we _have_ to go now, Eve.” Villanelle didn’t try to grab her hand and guide her like the last time in Rome, she looked her in the eye, nodded, and left, knowing Eve would follow close behind.

She had the gun after all.

/////

They reached the parking lot at the underground level of the building with ease, Villanelle’s stolen van was at the far corner of the place. The only sound in the place were their footsteps while they approached the vehicle, sometimes the sound of boots stepping into a puddle and Eve’s audible breathing behind.

“I have a car here, we can go somewhere else if you want to keep asking questions.” Villanelle was stopped just when she was about to open the door of the car, her front and part of her face colliding against the surface and the barrel of the gun digging into her spine. “Now Eve, don’t be naughty, as much as I want you to.”

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing? You kill my agent and now this? What’s your game, Villanelle?” Eve spat, digging the gun harder. Villanelle raised her hands and put them against the car, signaling surrender.

She had no doubt Eve would shoot her.

This Eve, she was so dangerous now. Villanelle was excited, _this_ was the Eve she knew was inside of her all along, and feeling her against her back, pointing a gun at her, as dangerous as it was, it was turning her on.

“I told you, we need to leave.” Slowly, she turned around and was faced with the angry expression of Eve and her glorious hair holding a gun and pushing it against her side. She groaned. Fuck, she was digging the exact place she’d stabbed. Villanelle grabbed the barrel of the gun with her right hand and pushed it harder against her. “You can ask me all you want and then kill me if that’s what you want, Eve. But trust me, now, please.” Eve was so close, her glare unwavering. She was thinking. Villanelle could see that. She smiled.

“Get in the car. And don’t try anything funny.” She pulled away the gun slowly and opened the driver’s door forcefully for Villanelle to enter. “Stay with your hands up or I won’t hesitate.” Villanelle laughed, of course she wouldn’t.

Once inside in the passenger’s seat, Eve kept her at gunpoint. “Drive.”

“Where to, commander?” Villanelle asked mockingly. She knew she was pushing it giving the situation she was in, but Eve had just put her trust in her, that was something. Rome hadn’t repeated itself.

“I don’t care, just drive somewhere. We need to talk.” Eve said, her voice cold and final.

“As you wish, darling.” And Villanelle started the car. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all feedback is welcomed, lads. Sorry for any mistakes.


	6. every dog has its day part ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mature content ahead, yall know what *clown noises*

Eve didn’t utter a word throughout the entire ride, not even when Villanelle took a lonely road down the forest, yet, the gun stayed pointing at her side.

“We’re getting closer.” Villanelle said calmly. As long as she didn’t do anything, Eve wouldn’t shoot.

“Where to? We’re in the middle of nowhere in a Russian forest.” Eve’s voice was cold, almost devoid of emotion. But Villanelle knew it was completely the opposite, she was just keeping it from showing at the surface.

“To my cabin.” She said plainly, and before Eve could protest, she continued, her eyes fixed on the dark road as she drove. “You have the gun now, Eve.” _You’re in control of the situation now, Eve._ “You can shoot me whenever you please if I try something. I know you won’t hesitate.”

Eve didn’t say anything, but the gun stayed the same.

“We’re here.” The vehicle came to a stop by a small cabin in the middle of darkness. Once the engine stopped Villanelle noticed Eve furrowing her brow for a minute, as if put off by the sound of silence. It could be terrifying sometimes, the lack of noise in these places. “Do I get out of the car or…” Villanelle raised her hands from the steering wheel.

“Get out.” Eve seemed to struggle with her seatbelt but kept pointing the gun at her while she closed the driver’s door and walked towards the door slowly, her hands still in the air.

“I’m going to pull out the keys from my pocket, so…” Eve was behind her again, digging the barrel of the gun against her spine painfully.

“No, tell me which pocket, I’ll take it.” Villanelle let out a small laugh.

“Shouldn’t you frisk me for other weapons too? People hide the craziest things inside their--”

“Just shut up and tell me where the damn key is.”

“Bossy suits you, Eve.” Villanelle smirked while Eve scoffed at her comment. “My right back pocket. Be careful with the goods please.” She heard Eve muttering another ‘shut up’ at her. Villanelle chuckled.

Faster than she wished, Eve got the keys from her pocket and put them on her hand before inspecting them.

“Thank you, love. Now I’m going to open the door and turn on the lights, okay?” Eve pushed her forward with the gun and that was all the confirmation she needed to proceed, so she did carefully.

“Welcome to my new home.”  They were already inside, but Eve wasn’t letting her go yet.

“Don’t move.” She didn’t. Villanelle stayed in the middle of what was supposed to be the living room with her hands in the air while she listened a chair being dragged across the wooden floor and then the carpet, getting closer to where she was.

“Sit.” She did. Her survival depended on giving Eve all the power right now, giving her the control of the situation. Not only her survival depended on this but also how much info she could get from Eve after what had happened a couple of hours ago in that hotel on Moscow. They could both win as long as they could behave.

“Are you going to tie me up now, Eve? Are you going to torture me until I beg you to stop?” Villanelle could finally see Eve’s face clearly now that she was standing before her; that glorious hair, her scowl turning into a mildly surprised expression, into a flustered one at her comment. Villanelle smirked. “Now, Eve. Were those some unprofessional thoughts crossing your--”

“God, shut up, please? Focus on the _shit_ that just happened back there, Villanelle.” Eve’s voice raised a few notes, her hand waving the gun dangerously close. “You just shot a hired killer from The Twelve – whom _I_ was in charge of – Boris is dead, and the organization _and_ the Brothers’ Circle will probably frame you for his death because they _know_ you were after him. Don’t you _fucking_ get it?”

“Wasn’t that what you wanted? To kill Boris Astankov? Wasn’t that the reason you were sent to handle that fraud of an assassin?” Eve sounded almost desperate now, her emotions were all over the place while she listened to her.

“But you weren’t supposed to be there! Don’t you get it!?” Villanelle didn’t answer for a minute. Her mind deep in thought while Eve’s yelling slowly sunk in.

And then everything clicked.

“I was supposed to be there, Eve. That’s what The Twelve wanted.” After Rome, the Twelve sent assassin after assassin for her head, always failing, just like today.

So, what better than to wait for her to reunite with her snitch of a father to kill two birds with one stone? Both compromised parties at the same place, it couldn’t get any better than that.

“That wasn’t part of the info they gave me. Heavy security and Boris Astankov in a hotel, that was it.”

“They always lie, Eve. But you know that already, I’m sure.” Eve looked at Villanelle in the eye then, a mix of sadness and frustration on her features, the hand holding the gun slowly falling to her side.

“What were you even doing there, Villanelle?” Eve sounded tired now, like that day at her apartment in Paris. Before she stabbed her.

“I was catching up with my father, as you well know thanks to Konstantine. Until your friend rudely interrupted us.” Villanelle clicked her tongue. What an annoying interruption that had been. “Sorry for the bullet to her throat, I couldn’t help myself. Hope you two weren’t too close.” She shrugged and winked. Eve just raised an eyebrow at her statement. “Mmh, but she was too sloppy. Definitely not your type, Eve.”

“Okay…I’m sorry, about your father.” Said Eve. Villanelle laughed as loud as she could.

“Don’t bullshit me, Eve.” Villanelle said in between laughter, leaning forward in her chair, watching Eve’s grip getting tighter around the gun. “You’re not sorry about it. And I’m not looking for revenge, if anything, killing your friend was self-defense. I’m not looking for your apologies either.” Villanelle got up from the chair as fast as Eve pulled the gun against her side, without hesitation, but without anger. Almost as if on instinct now. Villanelle smiled. “I think we are way past apologies at this point, Eve. Don’t you think? So don’t lie to me.”

“Yes, I think so too. So don’t lie to me either.” Eve’s voice was barely above a whisper, but they were so close now Villanelle could smell her clearly. She could feel her heart beating faster, probably the adrenaline kicking in, the gun against her scar digging again as if it was a threat. Villanelle grabbed Eve’s gun with both hands and pulled it painfully until the back of her knees hit the chair and she was sitting again, but now with Eve almost on top of her, forehead against forehead with a wild look in her eyes.

“So tell me, do you want to kill me right now, Eve?” Villanelle’s grip on the gun and Eve’s hand got tighter, pulling it even deeper against her side making her breathing hitch and groan when Eve’s other hand joined and pushed deeper. “You can do it right now, just pull the trigger, I have nowhere else to go.”

Eve was panting now, joining Villanelle’s labored breathing. She wasn’t resisting any longer, she was pushing in the same direction Villanelle was pulling, but even then, she couldn’t help groaning louder when Eve straddled her leg and pushed even harder against her scar.

“If you don’t do it, they’ll just send another one.” Eve’s lips were so closed just talking felt as if they were kissing, her eyes couldn’t hold Villanelle’s without wandering down to her lips. Eve’s nails were digging into her hands while pushing the barrel, and god, it was making Villanelle’s head spin being this surrounded by her.

“Is this what you want?” Her voice sounded strangled, barely audible but enough for Eve to listen. Her side was on fire, breathing was getting deliciously painful by the second, but she didn’t want it to stop. Eve was looking at her like she was going to eat her alive, a faint moan escaping her lips as her hips shifted slightly against Villanelle’s leg.

“To pull the trigger right now.” Eve grinded her hips harder again.

“Feel my blood on your hands.” And again. Villanelle could feel Eve moaning against her lips, her erratic panting, her unwavering gaze looking down at her, her hips grinding harder and harder against her leg, her own imitating the movement.

“Or would you rather choke me with your hands?” Villanelle could barely talk anymore, she didn’t recognize her own voice; trembling, low and intense. Eve’s loud moan made her lose whatever composure she had left, her hands releasing the gun, grabbing it from Eve’s and throwing it across the room.

In a matter of seconds, her throat was constricted tightly by a pair of hands, her own holding Eve’s hips they continued their torturous movement, her fingers digging painfully in the soft skin there.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Eve said, her voice strangled and barely audible between her panting and moaning. She was looking at Villanelle straight in the eyes as she said so, her hands tight around her throat. “I want you.” A moan. “I want you alive.”

Eve’s lips were against hers in a vicious kiss, biting roughly all over and making Villanelle moan against hers, the hands around her throat making her dizzy and those hips getting faster and rougher too. She could taste blood on her tongue, on her lips, she was choking on Eve’s moans and gasps and _her hands_. Villanelle’s eyes closed because of the dizziness and Eve’s name escaped her lips when teeth closed around her earlobe. Fuck, she couldn’t take it anymore.

With what little strength Villanelle had left, she pushed Eve’s body away from her until they were both standing and pushed her again between messy kisses against the nearest wall, slowly falling to her knees in front of Eve, without breaking eye contact, not even as she unbuttoned her slacks and pushed them down along with her underwear.

Eve looked stunning. Villanelle couldn’t take her eyes off hers, that look on her face was making her insane. She was loving this. Her gaze didn’t waver, not even when Villanelle put leg on her shoulder and slowly started kissing her way up, only her breathing changed, the hands grabbing the wall for support had white knuckles, her face wearing a slight pink shade.

But the moment Villanelle’s mouth reached between her legs, Eve closed her eyes shut immediately and moaned the loudest that night, her hands digging into Villanelle’s scalp, almost begging her not to stop, her hips undulating against her tongue. Villanelle couldn’t stop the noises coming out of her either, it was better than any dream, to finally have Eve, to take her in her mouth and make her moan, gasp and scream. To finally feel her against her tongue, all wet and wanting.

Eve’s hands were shaking as she moaned, her hips finding the perfect rhythm against Villanelle’s tongue and lips, it wasn’t long until her entire body was at the edge of collapse, her legs shaking, head thrown back and panting Villanelle’s name until her voice broke, her knees gave out and she slid down the wall onto Villanelle, who was panting just as hard as her, her head falling on Eve’s shoulder trying to regain some composure.

“Eve, I think I have carpet burns on my knees.”

“And I need to lay down for a moment.”

“Me too.” Eve reluctantly let go of her to put her discarded clothes back on and lie down on the carpet, right besides Villanelle.

Nobody said anything for several minutes, both looking at the wooden ceiling of the cabin.

It felt like as if they were back in Paris, on Villanelle’s bed, surrounded by broken champagne bottles and her clothes all over the floor.

“I don’t want to kill you, Villanelle.” Said Eve, her tone serious now but her voice coming out raspy.

“I know.” Villanelle had just given her the perfect chance, and she had said exactly the same. She wanted Villanelle alive.

“More people are going to come after you after what happened.” Villanelle nodded. There wasn’t much to do about that.

For several more minutes, silence surrounded them. Villanelle could feel Eve’s mind working even if she didn’t say a word. Her expression looked deep in thought, her lips were swollen and a small cut on her upper lip could be seen. Villanelle’s face was probably looking every similar, too.

She couldn’t help remembering what Konstantine had once said.

_It’s good to have someone who worries about you._

“Let me try to help you, Villanelle.”

Villanelle chuckled. “There isn’t much to be done, Eve.” The implied _I have to disappear_ made her clench her teeth.

“Yes, there must be a way.”

“No. You know how they work, Eve.” Deep down, Villanelle wished there _was_ a way because the thought of leaving _now_ seemed impossible.

“Yes, I know how they work because _I_ work for them.” Eve was looking at her now again, propped up on her elbow with a determined expression. Villanelle smirked. “Let me try to help you.”

“What are you going to do, Eve? Defy The Twelve? They’ll kill us both when the realize you’re aligning yourself with me.” Villanelle’s thoughts wandered to Konstantine again, how he’d said he’d tried and convinced his bosses over and over again of not letting her go, that her lack of discipline wasn’t a problem, that _he could_ handle her. “Look at Konstantine.” Now he was on the run too with his family.

“Just let me try, okay?” Villanelle held her gaze from her lying down position.

“Is this some sort of favor after the amazing sex we just had?” Eve’s eyes widened for a moment and swatted her arm hard.

“Asshole, take this seriously.” She was blushing slightly.

“I am, I am, sorry. But if you think you can convince them go ahead, we both know the consequences.” She knew she wouldn’t be able to change Eve’s mind now, so she could only go along with whatever her plan was and accept the results no matter what.

When was the last time Villanelle hadn’t been in control? And she wasn’t giving Eve the fake illusion of it now, she really was in charge of both of their lives. Villanelle grinned at Eve’s pensive stare above her.

“You are really in charge now, Commander.”

///     

“I’ll do talking, don’t even think about opening your mouth, got it?” They were back in the van, driving towards some desolated town Eve’s bosses mentioned to her on the phone.

“Yes, ma’am.” Eve rolled her eyes from the passenger seat and sighed.

“Why do I even try?” Villanelle grinned, her fingers tapping the steering wheel.

“Because I am amazing, and you like me too much to let some amateurs try to murder me.”

“Your ego is going to kill us both first.” Eve said laughing lightly.

Villanelle liked her laugh; she didn’t get to hear it often enough. She smiled.

“What are you smiling about?” Eve was looking at her while she drove, her arms crossed on her chest, shielding her body from the cold night.

“You have a nice laugh, Eve.” Villanelle said simply. “Very cute.”

“Well, let’s hope it’s not the last time we hear each other laugh then.” Eve said, her now pensive gaze on Villanelle’s face.

She nodded.

///

They were inside an abandoned factory on the outskirts of a town Villanelle was pretty sure nobody lived in. A perfect place for the Twelve to conduct their “business”. At their arrival a squad of guards pointed their guns at the van and immediately escorted them inside without a word.

As if they knew Eve already, they didn’t need confirmation of their identities.  

“What a shit hole.” Villanelle said out loud, earning a glare from Eve at her side. She shrugged.

Everything was dark and cold and covered in puddles. Definitely a place she didn’t want to die in.

They arrived at an open space, the destroyed ceiling letting in the cold wind of the night. Villanelle felt Eve shivering by her side, she was only wearing a white blouse that looked a bit more expensive than the clothes she used to wear. It wasn’t the time for this, but it was better than looking at the depressing walls of the disgusting place they were in.

Now looking at Eve, how she held herself, it reminded Villanelle of someone else.

Carolyne.

Villanelle chuckled and Eve just raised an eyebrow at her odd behavior, but none said anything.

“Stop.” A guard yelled suddenly. Villanelle and Eve stopped walking immediately, a man in a suit surrounded by at least eight other guards wearing balaclavas and assault rifles. One move and they’ll be dead before they even knew what happened.

“Eve Polastri.” The man said with a thick Russian accent, his black Armani suit pristine under the Burberry trench coat he was wearing, the smoke of the cigarette in his left hand surrounding him and giving him an air of mystery. “Villanelle.”

So, he was one of the big guys, Villanelle thought. And Eve seemed to know him, she didn’t look intimidated by him.

“Mikhail.” He smiled, whilst smoke came out of his mouth. Villanelle scrunched her nose.

“It’s been a while, Eve. I am sorry for the place but it’s for safety measures.” Eve nodded, of course she knew. He continued. “Can’t be too careful with Villanelle here, I hope you understand.”

“Yet you didn’t search me for weapons.” Villanelle interrupted and Eve clicked her tongue. Mikhail simply laughed and took a drag of his cigarette.

“I am pretty sure we can deal with you if you pull out a gun right now, Villanelle.” He didn’t seem to mind her comment, he looked amused. The smug bastard.  “But I am aware we are not here to kill each other, right? Eve mentioned a proposal, so let’s hear it.”

Eve cleared her throat and briefly glanced at Villanelle before speaking. “I propose we reinsert Villanelle inside the organization.”

Mikhail took another drag of his cigarette. “And why should we allow that?” He said, his voice rough and devoid of emotion now.

Eve continued calmly. “She completed the job against Boris Astankov today.” Villanelle quickly glanced at her.

Eve was _lying_ to her boss.

“She killed him after he shot our agent.” Villanelle smirked at her. “I’d say that gives her a chance. Also, she didn’t kill me when I approached her and talked about this.” Eve just wouldn’t stop surprising her. She was willing to lie to her boss to his _face_ like this. She wanted to laugh. But she didn’t.

Mikhail cleared his throat and took out another cigarette after finishing the other. “That’s interesting, Eve. Shooting your own father.” He took a long drag from it and let out a sharp laugh, giving Villanelle a smile. “It would certainly spare us some resources since Villanelle here has killed all the agents we have sent. But how do I know we can trust her?”

They had no guarantee that Villanelle would play along like she had before.

“Because if you allow her back into the organization, I’ll handle her.” Eve said, her voice determined. Villanelle stared at her for several minutes where no one spoke, until Eve continued. “She’ll report to me, regardless of who her assigned handler is.” She stopped and briefly glanced at Villanelle who couldn’t take her eyes off her. “And I’ll deal with her if she’s no longer fit for the job.”

Mikhail threw away the remainder of his cigarette and stepped on it with his leather shoes. His stare was pure steel against Eve’s determined one. “You’ll need a very tight leash for this one.” He glanced over at Villanelle. “Are you aware of your position here, Villanelle? We don’t give second chances. But Eve’s proven to be an extraordinary asset for the organization. I trust her judgement, do you trust her, if we allow this?” Villanelle’s stare at Mikhail was cold, her voice sharp when she answered.

“I do.” He laughed, breaking the tension for a moment.

“And you Eve, are you sure you can handle her? Is your judgment with Villanelle…compromised? We know of your past. Do you accept the consequences and the new responsibility you’d carry now?”

“I do.” Eve’s voice didn’t falter, she didn’t show a sign of hesitation.  

“Oksana Astankova. Villanelle.” Mikhail put his hands inside his pockets. “You know the rules now. You are to thank Eve for giving you another day to live. Don’t disappoint us. We’ll be in contact soon.” He pulled out a hand form his pockets and snapped his fingers twice, the guards following behind as he walked towards the exit.

“A pleasure to see you again, Eve Polastri. You too, Villanelle.” Mikhail said by their side and quickly left the place with at least ten people following closely behind.

Villanelle waited until Eve started moving too, walking towards the van outside. They didn’t say anything until they were inside, and Villanelle slowly started clapping, Eve looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

“That was an excellent act, Eve. Who would have thought you would lie to your boss like that?”

“Well, it was lying to Mikhail about something he has no way of proving is a lie or both of us getting shot in that shithole.” Villanelle stopped clapping and put her hands on the steering wheel. Eve let out a long sigh and closed her eyes.

“So, I owe you my life and you get do decide when to end it too.” Villanelle leaned closer towards Eve. “I guess we are bonded now.”  

Eve let out a laugh, her hands pushing back her hair. “I just can’t get rid of you, can I?”

Villanelle scoffed. “As if you would want to.” Her finger dug into Eve’s chest. “I guess it’s going to be until death do us part.” She winked and Eve just stared at her for a moment, as if remembering something. Probably Niko, she thought, some far memory from a distant past. But just as it came, it passed.

“I guess that’s how it’s going to be now, yes.” They both shared a knowing smile before Villanelle started the engine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a long chapter laaads, had to cut it in two parts and the second is still huge. Oh well.
> 
> Thanks for reading!! All feedback appreciated, mistakes are on me.


End file.
